


Crescendo

by SerendipitousSong



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel - Michael Scott
Genre: Auric Abilities, Bifrost Mischief, Crack Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, I blame coffee before bed, Immortality, M/M, Magic, Meddling Ancients, Meddling Valar, Mind Reading, Modern Character in Middle Earth, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychic Abilities, foresight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6156888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerendipitousSong/pseuds/SerendipitousSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On one hand, Marc was hunting rogue Immortals and ran into an old companion by the name of Marethyu.</p><p>On the other hand, Loki and his mysterious underling are breaking out of prison, and hopefully leaving this realm forever.</p><p>And on the odd third hand, High King Peter and Queen Susan have found these odd rings that can send the wearer into other dimensions...</p><p>And everything does NOT go according to anyone's plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crescendo

**Author's Note:**

> I... this... I got this idea in the same manner in which I receive my ideas for tumblr posts:  
> I woke up in the middle of the night suddenly, and wrote it all down.
> 
> So now, with some minor encouragement from a fellow writer on Wattpad, we birthed this idea and I pray to Eru it sticks. Wouldn't want all my heavy Middle Earth research to go to waste.
> 
> It starts out with The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series, so if you haven't read them, bear with me for this first chapter. Next, I get to Loki and his underling

When Marc took the job off of Queztalcoatl, he expected a long chase, complete with covered tracks and help from other Immortals. Not only was he chasing the infamous Billy the Kid, but he was also hunting the equally infamous Niccolo Machiavelli. And the thing with both of those men was that, if they needed to disappear, they did so thoroughly. Billy was maybe the mastermind of hiding in plain sight, and Machiavelli was rich beyond belief, no doubt able to feed their journey from his own pocket. And without a means of tracking the Italian's credit card (not that he'd be so stupid as to use it), MarcAnthony was up a river.

And that was just how he liked it.

Bounty hunting was not easy in any sense of the word. And bounty hunting for the Elders, be they Dark Elder or Elder, was riddled with more complicated obstacles than for Immortals. Much of the time it is done invisibly, with the target usually able to kill him in a heartbeat if he made the wrong move. Marc never made a wrong move, but the thought could still be jarring. And with no allegiance to either good or evil, bounty hunters were easy scapegoats should the job go awry. On top of being easily used and thrown away, the rewards varied as greatly as did the appearances of the Elders. In some cases, particularly with Dark Elders, or shady Next Gens, the reward was his life.

Marc had a sinking feeling that this job was one of those. But in the end, it was all the same, with everyone turning their gaze from a neutral with no alliances, no friends, and no Master. If it weren't for his services, he'd be declared _utlaga_. As it were, he was in a safe spot, for now at least.

He turned from the hotel he was watching, leaning back against the bench. Across the street, he'd watched both his targets walk in, with the Italian having put on twenty plus years since the attack on San Francisco. According to Q, he had nearly spent his aura healing the young American Immortal, and the effects had yet to wear off. Even six months down the line he was still hobbling around on his walking stick, the Kid helping him along. If Marc hadn't had a rare picture of the Kid, he'd have missed them five weeks back when he followed them into Montana. The Kid sported his blonde locks no longer; in their place was a short, spikey do. Though his kept his boots, the rest of his wardrobe had changed drastically. Gone now were the denim button downs and worn jeans. Marc had observed an assortment of black tee shirts, some plain, some not, as well as dark skinny jeans tucked into those awful dusty boots. Machiavelli had done the switch, too; khaki slacks and patterned dress shirts, without a single three piece in sight. Hell, not even a _tie_ had ever graced his elderly figure since Marc had first found them on the Canadian border.

Once again, he shifted on the bench. The backpack beside him was open and displayed a large pencil pouch. On his back, his bow and quiver rested over the concrete behind him, hidden underneath the shrubbery. In the bright late morning sun, the bounty hunter looked like any kid off the street with a passion for shitty building sketches and kickass weapon details. His sketchbook was filled with those, and with faces unknown to any but him.

Right now, he was working on the smiling face of Billy the Kid. Unfortunately red ink was no good for shading, and he discarded the pen without a thought.

Anytime now, he would get a call from his man on the inside telling him what room they duo were staying in, and Marc in turn would plan his move. And the current plan was simple... sort of. A pattern he had meticulously studied showed that in the late afternoon, the Kid would leave the Italian and bring back some form of takeout. On weekends, the two would "dress up" and have an outing, usually to an upscale restaurant. Neither used their auras to detect other Immortals or mortals with ill intent, else they'd have taken off as soon as a whiff of his aura. He could sneak into the hotel room, and overload the European's aura before the Kid returned. With a signal from his compatriots that Billy was in the building, he'd prepare his second attack, which would most likely be more eventful. The decoys on the inside would follow Billy the Kid, and when once he was distracted attacking them, MarcAnthony would send a well aimed arrow into his head.

Marc could see it now. The poor old Italian passed out on the floor, with a young American fighting the hired unknowns, his head perfectly in place...

But now is not the time, he reminded himself. No need to get too excited. The reward hadn't been specified, but it no doubt wasn't worth the heads of both these rogues.

"I'll have you know both those rogues saved the world you hunt in." The sudden voice didn't startle MarcAnthony. It was familiar, thought not in a good way.

"Ah, I wondered when you'd show up, my friend." Marc stood and removed his quiver in one seamless movement. He turned and faced the tall blonde behind him, dressed in a grey button up and black jeans. Old blue eyes glared from a young face. He could feel them burning holes into his soul. "It's always nice to see you, Marethyu. How have you been? How is Sophie doing? I hear she's planning a party."

Marethyu narrowed his eyes. "A prom, since we never went to ours." The blue glare drifted to the hotel across the street. "She wants to invite them, because of their part in saving San Francisco. Somehow I don't think they will make it."

Marc only shrugged. "It's just business, friend. And I doubt you've come for me, so it must be safe to assume I succeed." He leaned in closer to Death. "Between you and me, they aren't worth my time. Anyone who acts against my friends, as they did you, should be eliminated before they disappear. But," he clapped loudly, "I digress! I'm waiting for a call that will not come for almost three hours. Would you like to accompany and old friend to brunch? Or is it lunch time already?"

Marc offered up an arm to the young man in front of him, eyebrows raised. Though he knew Marethyu did not need food, he also knew that the wanderer was lonely. Longing flashed for a moment in the tired eyes of Death.

Marethyu blinked and accepted the arm. "Thank you. But stop calling me friend. Many things we are, but," his left hand shimmered as if a hologram. "Friends, we are not." As a second thought, he added, "And I'm not the Grim Reaper, kid. There's more to my job than showing up at people's deathbeds."

That was all the encouragement MarcAnthony needed. The hunter proceeded to pack up his sketchbook and pens, stuffing them both into the backpack. His ow and quiver were hastily put into a black carrying case, and his shooting glasses flipped into shades. Marethyu watched the process, amazed by fluidity of each movement.

Straightening, Marc glanced sideways at the blonde. "Where are we going, Death my good -- er, Marethyu?"

A rich laugh filled the air between them. "I think we should find somewhere to... _talk_."

"Talk?" Talking usually meant something not good. It didn't necessarily mean bad, just not always good. "What are we talking about?"

"Business."

They began walking down the street, Marc carrying his case and Marethyu carrying the backpack. The hotel was left behind slowly while the duo made their way farther out from the grubby Chicago neighborhood. Skyscrapers could be seen ahead, sunlight blinking off thousands of tons of glass.

 

* * *

 

They'd been walking for a while when the scenery changed only slightly.

An alleyway appeared beside them randomly, a sudden gap in the wall that hadn't been there before Marc blinked. He sent a questioning glance at Marethyu, but the latter merely steered their path toward it. Bricks spilled from the walls as they passed, closing up the alley as quickly as it appeared, not making a sound.

On the other side of the improvised entrance, Marc stared ahead, eyes wide open. He was in a Shadowrealm. An old one, by the looks of it. The sun above them was large and dim, sending pale sunlight washing over the 'Realm. Where they stood, there was only pale grey grass waving in a breeze neither could feel. At the bottom of the hill, thousands of miles away, ancient grey ruins stood tall over a dried up sea. The mountain in the middle used to be an island, but the lack of water filling the deep basin revealed every cave and secret passage the ruins had to offer. At the top, a lone, crusty gold pyramid guarded the entire 'Realm. Pale dirt, pale trees devoid of leaves, and wispy black clouds sent uncomfortable shivers down Marc's spine. The basin ran before him until he could not see where it ended. A great sea it had been, and a great city, upon a great island. _And that pyramid..._

" _Danu Talis_ ," he breathed.

"My Shadowrealm, you mean." Marethyu shifted. "A home I can neither remember, nor seem to forget. The home I destroyed..." He caught the bounty hunter's eyes. "This is not the real Danu Talis. It is gone forever."

Marc only nodded, struck dumb by the saddening beauty. He could almost see a race of happy Elders, before they were changed, and he could trick himself into hearing the waves crashing over the cliffs. But the cold scene before him stirred him back to the matter at hand. "Business."

Marethyu coughed. "Ah, yes. Business."

The blonde abruptly made his way toward the ruins. "I hope the decor isn't too depressing for you. Sophie tells me I need a woman's touch around here, but the last time I let her run rampart through the 'Realm, I came back to an orange field right at the gates, and the sea was refilled -- with blue water. _Actual blue water_. Who does that?" He smiled sideways at Marc. "And don't me started on the island."

Marc needed to jog to keep up with the impossibly fast strides of Death. "What did she do?"

"One word, Marc. _Glitter._ "

"Oh no."

"Oh yes, my Immortal compatriot. I asked her to take back at least the glitter. Even before, as Joshua, I hated the stuff. But I indulged the blue water for a while, perhaps three months. Or was it three years? Time has become both clearer and less clear, living a paradox and all that."

Marc fiddled with his case strap. He could run across cities, even across states if need be, and had dome so in the past. One certainly cannot become a bounty hunter and not be extraordinarily in shape. Yet, somehow, keeping up with Marethyu never ceased to wear him out. That, and his heart was pounding in anticipation. Business was exciting. Business was a reason to move.

"It's strange how eager you are to kill."

Frowning, Marc retorted, "It's strange, how you can't leave my private thoughts, private."

More of Marethyu's rich laughter permeated the pale air. "I don't mean it. I just wondered what you were thinking, and sometimes I catch a snippet, or get a feeling. It is strange indeed! I didn't previously have such an ability, but perhaps the years and not-years are piling up. I can't tell which me I am."

Conversation died down after that dry statement. Both man and boy put their focus into arriving at the edge of the sea-basin. They may have walked for hours or days, Marc couldn't tell. The aging sun never left it's place at high noon. Rays of sunshine cover them, but as the duo approached the edge of the grassland (he could now see traces of the orange fields Marethyu's sister had planted), the sun grew dimmer, it's light now radiating from the Sun Twin himself. The crusted gold of the pyramid in the distance leeched off the rays, turning a brighter gold in anticipation of it's master's return. Miles below them, the basin dropped down yet many more miles.

Finally, after walking a long way, MarcAnthony was winded. "Stop," he wheezed, "stop... gotta... catch my breath... Oh my spirits, you glowing son of a bitch, what is _in_ the air?" It felt as though he were breathing in bone fragments.

"'Cause you are, bounty hunter."

"What?!" Marc coughed violently. "What the... why is there bone in the air?!"

Marethyu shrugged. "The basin."

That wasn't answer enough for Marc. He dashed forward, using a bit of his aura to give him just enough strength to reach the grassy edge. In the dead silence, he stared down at hundreds of skeletons at the bottom of the sea.

"They...?"

Marethyu was beside him in a slight shimmer of the air. "Yeah. They were the ones who didn't make it the day I... yeah. So they're here now too. Did you know that copy and pasting is a thing? In terms of creating Shadowrealms, I mean. But I tried to _not_ with them. Leave them in peace. Whenever someone enters, it shakes up chips and dust from them." Blue eyes were filled with remorse. 

It made Marc tear up for the young face of Death, and the fate of Josh Newman.

"John."

"What?"

"John Dee." Marethyu's left hand shimmered, and became his hook. "He's in the city. His bones, I mean. I did that on purpose. I find myself in need of reminders that he made a good choice in the end, through all the hell that was breaking loose the day I became Death. Virginia comes often to pay her respects." He sniffed, glaring hard at the bones below. "I talk too much."

A soft smile played on Marc's lips. It was a welcome change to the loneliness he often felt. "I usually don't talk too much anyway, Marethyu, friend. Though, if I could breathe, we'd be chattering up a sto--" He was broken off by another fit of coughing.

Hook now brandished, the blonde wrapped an arm around MarcAnthony. The touch was startlingly warm despite the chill in the air. But then again, this was the _Sun_ Twin. Suddenly, the feel of warm breath brushed Marc's neck. The sensation sent minuscule shivers raging through his entire body, lighting all five of his senses on fire.

He could see each long blonde hair waving in the windless breeze, tangling with his short brown; he could hear every heartbeat, both his and Marethyu's, racing as one; the scent of oranges and mountain springs filled his nostrils; he could feel the powerful aura trigger his own to appear, changing the pale sky into gold and teal; the taste of bile made him gag as they were transported across the dead, dry sea, onto the island, where a small monument greeted them.

The 'Realm was spinning. Marc tried to clear his sight, not quite hearing the muffled words spoken by his companion.

As soon as the vertigo subsided, Marc looked around. The ruins were gorgeous. Along the grey beach, ancient beach homes, many of them dilapidated wood structures, stood vigil over the sand. Behind them, stone and wood buildings rose higher and higher, competing as the got closer to the Pyramid of the Sun.

Marc jerked suddenly. "How long have I been here?!"

Marethyu cast a sideways glance at him. "Oh, er, about a day."

Marc's eyes widened. "I've missed my chance! Dammit, Joshua, look what you did!"

Fingers closed around his throat so quickly that even his superhuman reflexes could not keep up. Grasping at the fist that held him up, he sputtered into eyes that no longer held their blue glow. In their place were gold disks flashing with a dangerous glint. A heavy orange perfume made his own eyes water. Marethyu's teeth were bared in a snarl.

"I am not Josh anymore, kid. Though I cannot always remember the poor choices I made as a mortal, I know enough to understand that the name _Joshua_ is synonymous to many with _traitor_ , or _murderer_. Even as I am now, Sophie is the favored Twin! She is the Beautiful Moon, casting a life-giving glow in the night. Somehow, the Sun is forgotten. So I will not suffer the title of Newman when I am not he!"

Marc felt fire pulsing through his throat before being cast down, sliding dangerously close to the edge of the basin. His coughing was exacerbated by the mistreatment. A different kind of sinking feeling settled into his stomach than the one from watching the hotel.

"Anyways... business?" he managed.

Golden disks were replaced with blue irises. Gasping for breath, Death blinked away the painfully obvious tears. "Yes. I find that I am in need of your services. As you can see, you have missed your chance at your original targets. Once Queztalcoatl finds this out, he will mostly likely decide that your turn is over."

The Gold Twin paced before Marc. Afraid to get up, he shifted to a sitting position at  Marethyu's feet.

"He will send someone else after them. Q is fickle, and doesn't waste time on the useless. If he finds out I failed the price will be my head, if not my Immortality."

Marethyu shook his head. "How cruel. I forgot about that as well."

"Yep, an awful way to go."

"You don't get to _go_ , kid." Marethyu stopped his pacing and dropped to a knee in front of the bounty hunter. "I don't know how you received your Immortality. You have a Master?"

MarcAnthony shook is head. "I literally just died, and then woke up floating down the Colorado with some arrows in my chest. Q found me and fixed me up." At Marethyu's raised eyebrows, he grunted. "I was fine, he just fished me out. I owe him nothing."

Once again pacing up and down the beach, Death continued. "Quetzalcoatl will demand to know why you have gone off the grid. I cannot let him get his... claws on you. Not now." He turned back to face Marc.

Marc studied his companion. They'd once been friends, but no longer, as spoken by Marethyu. The tall man had hunted him at one point, but Marc at least owed Sophie for taming the beast that was an angry Sun Twin, who doubled as Death.

Oh, wait.

Shit.

"That's right, kid. You're goddamn right."


End file.
